


Secrets Kept Like Promises

by becameapasttime (mitslits)



Series: For Want of Control [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: and the choices he makes, mentions of abuse, sort of an analysis of credence's character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 11:12:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8888668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitslits/pseuds/becameapasttime
Summary: Credence has a secret buried deep inside him. He can't afford to let it get out.





	

Credence has a secret. Dark, twisted, shoved so far down inside him he can’t possibly say it aloud, but it’s there. It lies in every beat of his heart, every breath that rattles in his chest, and he thinks someday he’ll die because of it. 

Credence has a secret. He’s not one, but two. Strip him to bare bones and you won’t find a man hiding within, but a shadow. It had filled him up when he’d made himself hollow, kept him alive with the force of its hatred. Sometimes it makes him more than alive. Sometimes it becomes too much to contain and it rips him to pieces from the inside out, turns him into something new, something stronger, something he wishes he could be on his own. 

Credence has a secret. He’s kept it for so long he’s not sure where it ends and he begins. Perhaps there isn’t a Credence without it, not anymore. He doesn’t think that would be so bad. 

Credence holds out the palm of his hand and he knows what will come. He can already feel the harsh sting of the leather, the blood welling to the surface in dark bruises and angry marks at the touch of the metal clasp. He has to keep himself from trembling, not out of fear or panic, but _anticipation_. 

For this is Credence’s secret. This is what tangles itself up with him until he’s indistinguishable from it, the thought that burns in his mind at night. Credence feels the harsh slap of belt on soft skin, pain skittering through his nerves. And he likes it. He wants it. He needs it. 

The Obscurus does like its named. It obscures. It masks. It does its best to cover up the real Credence, smother him until only the unending hatred remains. It’s good at what it does. But it can’t touch every part of him. 

Pain is the one thing that reminds Credence he’s human. The Obscurus can’t feel happiness, it can’t feel sorrow, or grief, or terror. But it can feel pain. 

The stronger it grows, the more pain it takes to keep it at bay. 

Credence swallows down his anger when he watches his mother beat and whip the other children, swallows down the harm he could cause her because she’s the only one who gives him what he needs. He does his best to keep her wrath from the others, inviting most of it upon himself. 

Then, suddenly, she isn’t all there is. Then, Graves walks into his life and Credence finds a new lifeline. Graves doesn’t do what mother does, doesn’t beat him or leave marks, but Credence knows what he’s doing is worse. He can sense the falseness in Graves’ voice every time he speaks, see the disgust simmering behind eyes that hide a secret nearly as terrible as Credence’s own. Credence doesn’t stop himself from going back to him. Someday, he knows, Graves will help him the way he needs him to. 

Credence knows that day has come the instant his fingers close around the wand under his sister’s bed. When his mother appears in the doorway, he’s almost relieved. He knows what this will look like to her. 

Sure enough, she demands he remove his belt. He’s just handed it over, braces himself for what he knows is coming, when his sister admits that it’s hers. 

Credence’s blood turns to ice in his veins. He stills, breath shallowing, eyes never leaving his mother. 

Disbelief wars with disgust and Credence watches her fingers tighten ever so slightly around the belt. His grip on control slips. 

The belt goes flying from her grasp.

Credence has done it now. He can see her look of shocked terror, focused not on him but his sister. Fueled by panic and the building rage he can feel inside him, he reaches out with his mind, wraps imaginary fingers around the belt and sends it skidding out of his mother’s reach once more. Credence knows what will happen if she gets her hands on his sister. Mother cannot be allowed to. Not anymore. Not ever again. 

The Obscurus seizes its chance. It rips him apart, roaring towards the object of his hatred in a concentrated frenzy, slams into her and kills her like she’s nothing. 

Just like that, Credence’s lifeline is gone. He snaps back to himself (hours? minutes?) later, confused and alone, just as the Obscurus always leaves him. He digs his fingers into the palms of his hands, the sharp points of pain helping bring him back to himself. It takes a few minutes until he’s together enough to stumble to his feet, hand wrapped around the symbol at his throat. There’s only one person who can help him now.


End file.
